


Home

by Dinthisis_thewayson



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinthisis_thewayson/pseuds/Dinthisis_thewayson
Summary: Din comes home late, and even through your immense panic you remind yourself, "At least he's home now."
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, Mandalorian x Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Home by Edith Whiskers  
> I highly recommend listening to it while you read...

He said he’d be gone only a day. That he’ll be home in twenty-four hours. He’s a man of his word, a man of promises. And he always kept them. You knew he wouldn’t ease the number of days he expects to take on a bounty, he’ll tell you upfront. One day. Two days. A week. He’ll never want to worry you, or want you to go out searching for him because knowing you the second he’s a second over his said return time you’re already going to be out the ship. And that’s what you're on the verge of doing right now.

  
It’s been almost thirty-six hours since he stepped foot out into the new planet. You were close to wearing a hole through the floor of the crest, your pacing the only thing keeping you sane at the moment. Many factors could make Din late. Maybe the bounty was harder to get a hand on or maybe he stopped by the market to get the kid a new sweater like he talked about the other day. Yet, you couldn’t stop your mind from spiraling into horrid, unimaginable thoughts that Din could be going through. Maybe the bounty went wrong or got to him first. You squeezed your eyes shut, grimacing at the images of those scenarios. Din could himself, you knew that more than anyone else. But the thought of him not coming home shakes you to your core. You had to find him.

  
And in the spur of your panic, you failed to notice the sound of the ramp lowering. You turned around abruptly at the sound of heavy footsteps. Your heart rose from your stomach at the sight of him, and tears glisten your eyes as you sighed in relief. His shoulders were slumped, the weight from his long travel making him heavy. His strides up the ramp were slow, nor confident. His arms swing at their side, lose with no strength. He was tired. He looked so unbelievably tired that you could feel it yourself.

  
You rushed over to meet him at the very top of the ramp as he’s merely a foot away from you, “Oh, Din I-” the feeling of him hugging-no more like leaning into you cut you off. A gloved hand settles on the slope of your back, his helmet leans to rest on the crown of your head. He seems to put his entire weight on you, his body wanting to carve into yours. He’s doing the same thing you do when you need him. When you needed comfort. And you’re going to give him exactly that.

  
He sighs, as he begins to rub small circles on your back. “I-I’m sorry I’m late, Cyar’ika. I know I said I’ll be home in a day but-” you shushed him gently, your hand finds the patch of unarmed skin on the side of his torso. The touch was instant relief for him, as you felt him relax.

  
“It’s okay, you’re home now that’s all that matters. Okay? You’re okay. That's all that matters to me. ” he nodded lightly against your head.  
He doesn’t let you go, just uses you as a way to ground himself that he made it home. Both of you stand there for a moment, allowing him to fully come back. You knew if you stood there any longer he would eventually doze off in your arms.

  
You pull away gently, “Come on my love, you have to rest” you take his hand into your own wanting to guide him to the sanctuary of your cot.

  
But before you could take a step he opposes, “Cyare, I have to get us off-” “And that can wait a bit longer. You need a minute, Din” he sighs, caving into your words.  
That was your magic phrase that would get him to rest. A minute was the word that will make his guilt of resting ease, and riding the feeling of somehow feeling selfish at the action of him taking a moment to himself when he has two lives to protect in his hands. But you somehow managed to change and cure the inner fixings of his mind. He will gladly let you tie strings to his mind, and put himself into your hands.

  
With the grip of your hand in his, he pulls you into himself and into his side as he leans onto you again, no longer letting you guide him. Instead, you guide each other.  
“Is he asleep?” he rasps out, his modulated voice somehow deeper. You hummed, “He’s out like a light. I think my pacing eased him to sleep.” you chuckle. His helmet lowers an inch, “I’m sorry, sweet girl”  
“Stopping apologizing, Din. All that matters is that-” “I’m home” he finishes.

  
You grin, as you both approach the cot. “That you’re home” you confirmed. The ramp of the enclosed cot stays closed as you stand in front of it, not wanting to wake the child. Din moves away from you and reaches for the straps of his chest plate. Your hands reach out to stop him, his movements suddenly stop at your touch. His visor looks up to your gentle face, care laced from your features to your eyes.

“Let me, my love” he’s rendered speechless at your words, his hand falling slowly from his place. He watches you closely, as you begin to undo the straps of his chest plate.  
You removed slowly piece by piece of the man in front of you, baring him down. This was a new sensation for the both of you. Din assumed that he would feel vulnerable at the hands of someone removing his second skin. But no. He felt loved. And for you, as you removed the armor off the only person in the universe who felt like home, you did it out of love. You did it out of worship. You worshiped and loved the man in front of you, and everything within him. He was your home. And with the last piece of the vambrace, he’s bare in your hands. The only thing remaining was his helmet.

You’ve seen his face countless times, but every time you do it always feels like the first time. Your hands slowly move up to the sides of it, placing them and holding them there for just a moment. You raise it gently, your eyes immediately falling to the chin of it. Slowly but surely his gracing features are revealed, each part of him-his chin, his pouty lips, his scruff, his nose, and his eyes. _Oh, his brown eyes._ You could see your whole universe. Because he is.

  
His eyes held so much tenderness, and love that you don’t even need to hear the words to know it. Holding his gaze, you lower the helmet to the floor. Rising back up, you could help but place a hand on his cheek. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes at the sight of him squeeze his eyes close and lean into your touch. You caress the rough, beard patch of his skin, his warmth brings you to ease. He turns to meet your hand, his lips meet in the inner of your hand placing a tender kiss. And once again you don’t need to hear the love. _You feel it._

  
“Come on my love, let's rest” you hear him sigh in content. He presses the buttons on the side control panel, causing the ramp to raise. You smile warmly at the sight of the child snoring and chirping in the hammock. And like routine, you go in first claiming the right side of the cot. You settle yourself into your place, grabbing the blanket and covering yourself up. You look over to the opening of the cot, expecting Din to rush in after you. Yet, he just stands there, his eyes gazed on your laid body. His eyes speaking for themselves, he’s happy to be home. You reach out a hand, not needing words. His gaze goes to your outstretched hand. He reaches for it, letting you pull him into his spot.

The ramp hisses shut, darkness surrounding you. You don’t carve yourself into him like usual, instead, you pull him and allow him to carve himself into you. He hums constantly, his body leaning on your own. He puts himself in a way where he can lay his head on your chest, his arm slung over your stomach. He sighs, his head nuzzling under your chin, finding his place. Your hand softly runs through his hair, soothing him into his sleep. A moment passes, and you think he’s asleep till he speaks-

“Sweet girl?” his unmodulated voice rumbles through the cot.  
“Yes, my love?”  
“You know I’ll always come home, right?”  
“I know, my love.”


End file.
